COPYRIGHT: DO NOT REPRINT WITHOUT PERMISSION Published in Midwest Studies in Philosophy, XXVII (2003), pp.88-114 Self-Mutilation, Interpretation, and Controversial Art1 Jill Sigman Offended reactions to art are not easily subjected to philosophical analysis; they are generally inarticulate in all but their outrage. But such offended reactions are too widespread to be easily dismissed. I will try to articulate what might lie behind such reactions, to understand this moral outrage and see if there is anything we might say in its defense. That can only be done effectively by exploring specific instances. After a more general survey I will therefore focus on one work: the case of the performance artist Stelarc and his 1984 performance Street Suspension. Stelarc's work, which involves self-mutilation, offers a key to understanding how a work of art might seem demeaning to a viewer. I will explore the notion of demeaning treatment closely in relation to Stelarc, and will approach his work in the context of performance and dance history.2 By way of this discussion of Stelarc I will show how even seemingly direct and immediate "gut" reactions presuppose artistic interpretation, and how interpretation is presupposed in such reactions. I. Art as transparently offensive There are times when people think art needs no interpretation. When Andres Serrano's photograph Piss Christ came to the attention of the U.S. Senate in 1989 it sparked such intense, inarticulate, and immediate reactions that even members of the art world were shocked by this ironic reconfirmation of the emotional power of art. "This so- Self-Mutilation, Interpretation, and Controversial Art Sigman-1 called piece of art is a deplorable, despicable display of vulgarity," said Senator Alfonse D'Amato before he ripped up a catalogue reproduction of the work for dramatic punctuation. Irate about the National Endowment for the Arts' supposed funding of the work, D'Amato complained further: Well, if you want free speech, you want to draw dirty pictures, you want to do anything you want, that is your business, but not with taxpayers' money. This is an outrage, and our people's tax dollars should not support this trash, and we should not be giving it the dignity. And after this piece of trash and this artist received this award, to make matters worse, the Awards in Visual Arts, this wonderful publication was put together; and who was it financed by, partially? By none other than the National Endowment for the Arts. What a disgrace.3 Senator Jesse Helms caught the ball running. "Mr. President, the Senator from New York is absolutely correct in his indignation and in his description of the blasphemy of the so- called artwork. I do not know Mr. Andres Serrano, and I hope I never meet him. Because he is not an artist, he is a jerk." But once was not enough. "I say again, Mr. President, he is not an artist. He is a jerk... That is all right for him to be a jerk but let him be a jerk on his own time and with his own resources. Do not dishonor our Lord."4 Within minutes twenty-one senators joined them in signing a letter to the NEA, expressing their outrage and asking for reform of the Endowment's grant procedures.5 Interestingly, these senators didn't feel the need to discuss or study Serrano's photograph any further, not to mention to know anything about the context established by his other work, in order to act. They saw the photograph as interpretatively transparent and found moral outrage the obvious and only appropriate reaction. This and similar indignation over the homoerotic photographs in Robert Mapplethorpe's exhibition Robert Self-Mutilation, Interpretation, and Controversial Art Sigman-2 Mapplethorpe: The Perfect Moment were only the beginning of a wave of fury.6 What we see in these public statements and actions is not in fact social disagreement over the quality of works of art. The sentence, "This so-called piece of art is a deplorable, despicable display of vulgarity," does not function for D'Amato as an evaluation of aesthetic merit. Nor are people immersed in philosophical worries about the nature of art and raising genuine doubts about the limits of the concept. "I do not know Mr. Andres Serrano, and I hope I never meet him. Because he is not an artist, he is a jerk," is not a philosophical claim about the ostension of "artist" or "art". Even Senator John Danforth begins his statement of opposition to the Helms Amendment7 by saying of the works of art, "These are gross. These are terrible. These are totally indefensible."8 These are reactions of offense, plain and simple. Some of these also are or advocate drastic action. Protesters outside of movie theaters across the U.S. picketed the opening of Martin Scorcese's film The Last Temptation of Christ in 1988. Under cover of night the government dismantled and removed Richard Serra's sculpture Tilted Arc from Federal Plaza in New York City in response to long-term public resentment of the sculpture. During his site specific work Street Suspension, the performance artist Stelarc was stopped by police and charged with disorderly conduct. Annie Sprinkle's 1990 performance of Post-Porn Modernist sent Dana Rohrbacher of the House of Representatives and Christian groups like the American Family Association into a letter writing frenzy. And even philosophers have been driven to action; Douglas Stalker and Clark Glymour present a philistine manifesto against the existence of public sculpture in which they compare the harmful effect of public sculpture on the populace to that of tobacco.9 So why do people get so fired up about art? The above protests include ostensible reasons for outrage, but those are not obviously satisfactory. It's not just anxiety about the spending of their tax dollars. An understatedly snide article reporting on a recent conference at SUNY New Paltz ran under the header "School for Scandal." (The Daily Self-Mutilation, Interpretation, and Controversial Art Sigman-3 News, November, 1997). Yet the conference, "Subject to Desire: Refiguring the Body," which involved performance art, body art, and sexually explicit visual art, was paid for by an anonymous donor. Another reason given is that such negative reactions are based on the belief that works of art set bad examples and are therefore dangerous. The strain of contemporary performance art that involves bodily self-mutilation should provide a touchstone for this possibility. William Scarbrough hung naked from ropes tied around his ankles, arms folded across his chest for forty-five minutes until gallery viewers cut him down. Chris Burden had himself crucified to a Volkswagen in one work, shot in the arm in another, and tied up in a burlap sack and left on a California highway in a third, and Ron Athey inserted some twenty hypodermic needles into his arm and repeatedly punctured his forehead with a thin knitting needle. And finally, Stelarc is an Australian performance artist who hung himself over an intersection in the East Village from eighteen fish hooks that pierced his skin until police ended the event. Detractors of such art might claim that it sets a bad example and thus induces people to mimic what they see to the extent that they mutilate themselves or others. This charge would parallel Plato's attack on poetry in the Republic, and many currently use similar arguments against pornography,10 and television.11 But what kind of bad example is set by Tilted Arc?12 And furthermore, even if this explains why people find certain works threatening or dangerous, it still doesn't explain their gut reactions of offense. We see in these reactions, even under the even-handed nonchalant style of Stalker and Glymour, a kind of basic incomprehension in the face of the artworks they criticize. So a deeper reason, even if not explicit or avowed, for hostility could come from a feeling of not understanding, a loss of one's bearings in the landscape of the artwork. People just don't know what to make of a photograph of a crucifix submerged in urine, or a giant steel wall obstructing their path to work, and they certainly don't understand why they should call these things art. Many assume that art deals in beauty. In a statement to the Senate, Senator Slade Gordon went so far as to enlist Benedetto Croce in the war on art. Self-Mutilation, Interpretation, and Controversial Art Sigman-4 "But this, what he called 'the theory of art as supporting theses,' " said Gordon, "he rejected, for he believed that 'Aesthetic consideration... pays attention always and only to the adequateness of expression, that is to say, to beauty.' "13 Given such a view once could feel shortchanged when not finding beauty in art, and at a loss to imagine what else art might be about. Further, we might see their negative reactions to certain works as driven by fear of things that are somehow threatening-- sex, homosexuality, AIDS, poverty, violence, the body-- as performance artist Karen Finley suggests in her story "It's Only Art."14 Over Mapplethorpe and Serrano, there was much talk about demeaning and denigrating, dishonoring and debasing. But what is it about these works that gets people to feel demeaned and denigrated? What accounts for this reaction? The detractors of such controversial works seem to think it's obvious, that their reactions are self-evident and their moral judgements about the works uncontroversial. But it's not obvious. Clearly they don't feel offended or demeaned just because someone disagrees with them.